


A smile on his face

by Ivartheboneme



Series: Ragnar [2]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Bad BDSM Etiquette, F/M, Face Slapping, NSFW, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, dom!Ivar, dom!Ragnar, sub!Ivar, switch!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 07:30:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11939280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivartheboneme/pseuds/Ivartheboneme
Summary: Ragnar asks his lady to cheer up his son.Please note that for all of my works that have sexual content, all relevant characters are at least 18 years old. If they are not yet 18 in canon, I age them up.





	A smile on his face

Ragnar stills between my legs. He cocks his head to the side, observing me as I dig into his hips and bite at the inside of my cheek to keep quiet. His thumb brushes against my lower lip and a shiver runs down my spine.

“Open up.” He says. I press my lips into a thin line, refusing him as the heat further down grows even stronger. Ragnar’s eyes glitter at my rebellion.

“Kitten.” He warns. I move underneath him, grinding my hips into his as I stare back at him, still not giving the king what he wants. He tuts at me and, a split second later, brings his palm down on my cheek. Skin burning where he slapped me, I open my mouth. Ragnar licks his lips before curling them and spitting into my open mouth.

“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He coos as he watches me swallow without him having to strike again. Satisfied that I’ve taken my punishment for muffling the desperate moans, he hikes my legs further up to secure them around his waist and sets a pace that has me screaming every time he drives forward. I find his hair, hands forming fists in it and using the grip to bring him closer. He cranes his neck to meet me and our mouths crash against each other, licking and nipping at whatever we can reach. Ragnar pulls back ever so slightly, our noses still brushing against each other as a hand lands at my throat. Just the lightest touch off his hand is enough to make me arch into him and when he cuts my air off completely I stiffen under him, gripping so violently at his hair that I fear he will lose chunks of it. He removes his hand, bringing it back down on the mattress so that he can put all his strength into the last thrust.I look up at him through heavy lids as he snaps his hips and roars above me. Ragnar collapses, his beard tickling the side of my neck while he softens inside me. He rolls to the side with a loud grunt and I feel his eyes one me as I stretch my sore limbs. The second I am done Ragnar pulls me back against his chest, his cum trickling down my thighs. He clears his throat.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you…”

“What, my king?” I murmur, just about ready to sleep.

“What do you think about Ivar?” I furrow my brow, shifting my body against him and revelling in the way the king groans at my movements.

“He is a petulant little boy.” I say finally. Ragnar nips at my ear lobe.

“Mhm, what else?”

“He is disrespectful, prone to violent outbursts.”

“And what about his looks?” _What?_ I try to look at Ragnar over my shoulder. He shrugs his shoulders in response.

“I overheard some of the slaves speaking about what a shame it is that his legs are...well…and that he’d make for a fine fuck otherwise.”

“He- he has nice eyes, I guess.” My words come out more like a question than a statement. Ivar’s hair looks good too now that he’s let it grown a bit. I don’t tell Ragnar that though, this conversation feels strange enough already. Ragnar sighs and snuggles up even closer.

“He’s very lonely, you know.” He whispers against the top of my head. I squirm out of Ragnar’s grip and turn to face him.

“What are you getting at?” I ask even though I already have my suspicions. The king smirks deviously and tries to pull me back into his arms. I swat him away, shooting him a warning glare. He seems deterred by this but only for a second. Ragnar props himself up on his elbows, sporting the same confident look as always.

“Would you cheer him up for me?” My vision is blurred by fury. My palms slam into his chest, pushing him away from me.

“Do you think I’m some whore?!” I snarl. Ragnar tilts his head and leans forward, so close that our noses almost touch.

“No, if you were a whore I would have just ordered you to go to his bed. But I asked you nicely, didn’t I?” He purrs. I scoff at that, the king and I clearly have different ideas of what counts as asking nicely. Ragnar tries to grab me again but once more I slap him away.

“He can’t even get his dick hard!” I protest. His eyes flash. I’m too slow this time. Before I can react he’s pinned me to the mattress.

“Tell me, kitten; have I ever used only my cock to satisfy you?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer, instead moving further down until his mouth is at my thigh. I yelp as his teeth sink into the sensitive skin. Ragnar pulls back staring up at me from between my legs.

“Answer! Do I only use my cock?” He barks. I shake my head rapidly.

“No, Rag-” His fingers dig into my thigh and I yelp again before correcting myself.

“No, daddy.” He growls at that and soon his mouth is at work cleaning me.

 

“What am I supposed to do with him?” Ragnar looks at me where I’m standing at the door to his cabin. He puts the axe down and reaches a hand out for me to take. I walk closer to him and he pulls me down into his lap.

“What does he like?” I ask once I’ve settled comfortably. His lips ghost over my cheek.

“You’ll just have to find out together.” He says softly. My eyes slide shut and I lean against Ragnar, letting him press light kisses to the side of my face. Suddenly he stops and I open my eyes to glare at him. He’s pulled back, smirking at me.

“You could always let your dominant side come out and play, maybe he’ll be more compliant than I am.” He suggests. I can’t help but smile at that, the last time I tried to control Ragnar he’d thoroughly punished me. Loosening myself from his grip, I rise to my feet and straighten my back.

“Maybe I should be in charge this time, as a thank you for being so good to your son.” Ragnar laughs but he stands up and follows me inside the cabin.

“Oh kitten, you know that this won’t end well for you.”

 

Walking inside the great hall I immediately spot Ragnar’s sons sitting at the table as slaves scurry around it carrying food and drink. Ubbe is the first to notice me.

“y/n, I didn’t expect to see you here. You know that father is with Floki today?” I smile sweetly at Ubbe.

“Yes, I am aware of that. I was hoping that you’d let me share this meal with you.”

“Of course.” Ubbe gestures to the empty chair next to him in spite of his brothers’ less than thrilled expressions..

“Thank you. It gets very boring being lonely.” I sit down and am quickly given a plate and cup by one of the girls. The silence is awkward, to say the least. Even if Ragnar and I have never made it official that we are lovers everyone seems to know, including his sons. I’m just thankful Aslaug isn’t here at the moment. Hvitserk is eyeing me but I ignore him in favour of his youngest brother.

“How are you today, Ivar?”

“What do you care?” He snarls. _This_ _is_ _going_ _to_ _be_ _a_ _long day_.

 

Ivar twists his head to the side, ending the kiss that he just seconds ago was so eagerly engaged in. He looks up at me and it takes all my willpower not to flinch at his hateful glare.

“My father is a married man. Have you no shame, whore?” He asks in a low voice. I straighten my back and remind myself not to give the petulant prince any advantage over me. Gods know it isn’t easy; he’s been wearing my patience down for the entire day and I am close to doing something that I’ll regret.

“It is not my fault your father cheats. If it wasn’t with me, it would be with someone else.” Ivar cocks his head to the side, an exact replica of his father.

“So you just lie there and let him do whatever he wants. And still you seem to think that you should decide over me, another royalty.” He gestures at where our bodies meet, me straddling him in the bed in his father’s cabin.

“Yes!” I bark, tired of his insults “Because you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“And you do?” He shoots back. The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“Your father certainly seems to enjoy me much more than he does your mother.” Ivar lunges into an upright position, teeth bared and again I can’t control my reaction. I watch my hand clash against his cheek, see his handsome face turn to the side with the force of the blow. My first thought is panic; I’ve struck the prince. The one that already hates me. There is no chance of me making it through the night alive unless Ragnar returns early and stops his son from doing whatever disturbing things he can come up with; it feels as if I’m not nearly enough frightened by the thought. Then I hear Ivar let out the smallest of moans. My hand, that’s still in the air, begins to slowly sink back down.

“You liked that, didn’t you? I ask. Ivar’s entire face turns crimson

“Shut up, whore.” I slap him again and this time his hips shoot up as he tries to stifle the new moan. His growing cock grinds against me and heat pools between my legs.

“I have a name.” I tell him as he continues looking the other way. Ivar doesn’t protest as I reach down to open his breeches, only gasps as the freed erection slaps against his stomach. He looks bewildered, his gaze glued to his apparently functioning cock. _So the slave girl was either_ _a liar or not to his liking_. I grasp at his length and again he gasps. Ivar tries to reach for me, to place his hands at my hips but I click my tongue at him and to my surprise he stops mid-movement.

“Say my name-” He shoots his hips up again, giving me pause “It’s the only way you’re going to cum.” Ivar whimpers, head turning from side to side as if he can’t decide whether to stay and obey the orders or throw me down on the floor. I wait, pleasant shivers running down my spine at the sight of the prince in such a state; lips swollen and eyes bordering on desperate. Finally, he says it. The first time I can barely hear it and I squeeze his cock to make him speak up. Now I can hear him as he slowly repeats my name in a trembling voice that grows louder and louder as I guide him to my entrance. Sinking down on him, he calls my name out if he’s in fervent prayer. It has been a long while since I was the dominant partner and I quickly realize just how much I’ve missed it; the thrill of seeing someone so demanding and confident beg for me. He surprises me with his compliance by not trying to reach for me again; it even seems as if he’s straining not to finish before me. A part of me thinks that he’s terrified of doing anything that might make me change my mind and leave him here. I let a hand become entangled in his hair and pull him closer, enough so that I can suck his bottom lip into my mouth and nip at it until he’s a whining mess.

“Good boy.” I run a hand down his cheek, my cunt tightening around him at the sight of his fluttering eyelids.  With a loud moan I rolls my hips with more force, increasing the pace until I stiffen on top of him as the heat between my thighs explodes and spreads throughout my body. Ivar relaxes, following me with a grunt. I collapse to the side and before long Ivar is moving up against me, whimpering as he nuzzles against my shoulder.

 

The king is drunk. He reaches for me again and again I slip to the side. My smile is growing less and less convincing.

“Say it.” Ragnar’s voice is even more urgent now, even as he stumbles on the words.

“Not in here, Ragnar.” I hiss, swatting away his eager hands.

“Why not?” He asks and gestures at his sons that sit just a few steps away from us “They already know that I am bedding you; what does it matter if they find out you call me _daddy_ ?” _Shit_. There is no way they didn’t hear that. Glancing at the young men, I see that Sigurd looks disgusted. Ubbe and Hvitserk are clearly trying to ignore it but I can see how uncomfortable they are. And Ivar...Ivar looks furious. In the week that he’s come crawling to the cabin to have me ride and praise him his deadly glares have been slightly less frequent. I snap my head back around at the sensation of a tongue licking a stripe up the side of my neck. The kings grins at me. I want to yell at Ragnar but the truth is his wandering hands have set off an ache between my thighs and even as I try to look stern they begin to rub together. Ragnar notices. With one quick nip to my earlobe, the last of my resistance crumbles.

 

I follow Ragnar to the back of the great hall.

“Not my room. Aslaug is there.” He says, continuing past it on slightly unsteady legs until we reach a seemingly smaller room. Ragnar wastes no time, immediately pushing me down on my back. The furs have a familiar smell but there’s not much time for me to reflect on it before Ragnar is tearing through the front of my dress and I instinctively rolls my hips up against him to feed the desire that’s growing inside me. Ragnar dips his head down to suck at mouthfuls of my breasts and I squirm even more frantically. There’s a wet noise as he retreats. Ragnar fixes me with his blue eyes.

“Say it.”

“Daddy, p-please.” I stutter and moan. He seems to be on the verge of speaking when the door slams open and the spell between me and Ragnar is temporarily broken. It’s Ivar. He drags himself inside and slams the door shut.

“Hello, father. Whore.” I stay quiet, hoping that Ragnar will take care of this.

“Ivar.” Ragnar sighs. He looks guilty all of a sudden, something that I haven’t seen him display more than once or twice before. A thought hits me.

“Please tell me we’re not fucking in your son’s room.” I say. Ragnar looks around the room.

“I’m not sure,” He answers sheepishly “the rooms all look the same.” My eyes slide shut. I should have recognized the smell.

“The grown ups are playing in here right now.” I hear Ragnar say.

“I know, that is why I came.” There’s a dragging noise as Ivar comes closer. When I finally open my eyes again he’s sitting next to the bed, his arms and head propped up against the edge. Ragnar runs a finger along my collarbone and when I look at him I can tell what he’s about to ask. The quiet rage in Ivar’s eyes has me hesitating but not for long. Ragnar will keep me safe, that’s what I tell myself anyway. I reach for Ivar, intending to kiss him as an invitation. Before I can do that, he grabs a fistful of my hair and forces out mouths together hard enough for me to let out a shocked squeal. Ivar growls as he sucks and bites while I lie trapped under his father’s weight. Ragnar’s hands are at my dress again, this time rucking it up around my waist. My scalp burns when I lift my hips to help Ragnar but Ivar shows no signs of stopping. It’s getting difficult to breathe. Then Ragnar slams inside me and I sob into Ivar’s mouth as the movement following each thrust sets my scalp on fire again and again. Ivar finally retreats and he moves in a hurry to rid himself of his bracers and clothes. The bed dips as he heaves himself onto it and I allow myself to turn my attention to Ragnar, digging my nails into his shoulders as he sets a bruising pace. Suddenly rough fingers are at my throat, grasping at it tightly. Arching up off the bed and releasing a raspy moan when I climax, I hear a growl and I turn my head as best as I can to look at Ivar. He fixes me with unsettling eyes as his father continues pounding me into the mattress. Ivar loosens his grip, glaring at me accusatory when I sink back down against the furs with heavy eyelids.

“You’re really not supposed to enjoy that.” Ragnar’s chuckle makes Ivar snap his head up to look at his father instead.

“Guess that answers who was in charge out of the two of you...” Ragnar’s voice fades away and he finishes with a roar. He relaxes and becomes so still that I think he might fall asleep still on top of and inside me. Then Ivar is there, shoving his father to the side and Ragnar complies with a grunt. Having his weight disappear is a relief but I’m still sore from the king’s brutal pace. Ivar doesn’t seem to care because his hands are already groping at my thighs, quickly approaching my core.

“Ivar, let her re-” Ragnar begins in an exasperated voice only to be cut off by me yelping when Ivar shoves two fingers inside me. It’s painful at first, a different kind of pain than the one I allow the king to put me through and I grit my teeth. Ragnar is there in an instant, grabbing Ivar by the wrist. The prince stops but does not retract his fingers.

“It is my turn. Be glad that I let you finish first, old man.” The king hesitates, glancing up at me. He brings a finger to my lips, dragging along the seam of them. I open up, swirling my tongue along his finger. Again, I know what he is planning and I nod in agreement.

“Fuck her mouth instead.” With that, Ragnar helps me sit up and presses me tightly against his chest while Ivar lies down on his back. I settle between his spread legs and wrap a hand around his base. I’m still breathing heavily and so I begin carefully, taking just the head into my mouth and laving at it with my tongue. Ivar groans and shifts on the furs. Ragnar’s hands soon begin to wander again. First he's massaging my neck, then he's at my shoulders. They continue downwards until he’s holding onto handfuls of my ass. He squeezes and I moan around Ivar’s cock. I take more of the prince but make sure to keep a hand at the base to stop him until I’m ready. Ragnar continues kneading and pinching at my ass as I let more and more of Ivar inside. The prince locks his palms around my face and I surrender control to him. The first time he bucks his hips up he is tentative, unsure of how to move, but as always he is a fast learner. The sounds he emit grows more and more beastlike as he increases the force of his thrusts and Ragnar only seems to grow more eager too. Ivar half-laughs, half-wheezes when he hears me gag and sputter around his length and the sound of it sends a wave of heat directly to my core. I sob, willing myself to endure the rough treatment for just a little longer so that I hopefully can experience the feeling of gathering heat again. Ivar thrusts once, twice and then he groans while holding me in place to take his load. The warm liquid fills my mouth and a little of it runs down my chin. He releases me and I make sure that he sees me swallow. The look in his eyes makes me rub my thighs together to find some relief. Again, Ragnar pulls me back against him as he lies on his side.

“Now it is her turn.” He states in a voice that leaves no room for argument. Ivar reaches for something on the bedside. A washcloth, I realize as he brings it between my legs and begins to clean away the mess that his father left. Ragnar soothes me the entire time, petting my hair and dealing out kisses. Once done Ivar throws the washcloth to the side and waits for his father to place me on my back. Ragnar sits at my head, giving me gentle caresses as Ivar begins to situate himself between my legs. His head dips down over my belly, kissing it with plump lips before slowly making his way further down. He reaches his destination and I whimper, still sore. Ragnar hushes me and squeezes my shoulders. As Ivar continues the pain gives way for something more pleasant and it doesn’t take long for a familiar knot to form in the pit of my stomach. I squirm and Ivar locks his arms around my legs to keep me still. The prince finds my clit, letting his nose brush up against it while his tongue works further down. With each careful touch against my clit I come closer and closer to the edge and when Ivar replaces his nose with his eager lips I drive my hips up against his face and moan, finding my release. Ivar wipes his mouth as he retreats and he slumps down next to me. He tosses a fur at me to cover my trembling body and pulls me closer with a huff. It takes him seconds to fall asleep. I blink slowly, trying to process everything that has happened. Ragnar breaks my train of thoughts by slipping out of bed and finding his clothes. He sees my glossed over eyes and takes a dramatic bow.

“The queen awaits me!” He exits the room, leaving me with the sleeping Ivar.


End file.
